The Self Amplifier
by Jasper Hepcat
Summary: Wishawhirl creates a fabulous machine, but is it what he expected? Reviews would be appreciated! Rated PG for implied alcohol use.
1. Chapter 1

"More!"  
  
The small crowd of young ponies cheered as Bubblecup waved another cloud of iridescent bubbles out of the grand bubblewand for the ponies to catch. Bubbles swirled madly on updrafts and disappeared with a "pop" as the ponies galloped through them. The meadow was gloriously sunny, with a strong, cool breeze and expansive blue sky inspiring the ponies to run.  
  
"Look, I have one on my nose!" cried Minty excitedly, holding her breath and trying not to pop the bubble that had landed gently on her nose without bursting. A brief pause followed, while the others registered this new idea, and then the bubble was gone. A new cry went up.  
  
"I want one!"  
  
"Catch them on your nose!"  
  
Another flurry of bubbles followed. Looking skyward and jostling for bubbles, Minty, Pinkie Pie, and Candy Cane, tripped over their smaller, younger charges, and everyone tumbled to the ground, giggling and shrieking.  
  
"Bubblecup!"  
  
A shrill voice cut through the merriment. Trooping up the meadow path came one be-spangled Sparkleworks, followed closely by her usual companions in fabulousness, Mittens and Dazzle Surprise. They struck a pose in front of the tangle of bodies in a sort of reflexive power-vogue. Ribbons fluttered. Tinsel twinkled. The sequins were blinding. Uncertainly bringing up the rear, Wysteria shyly smiled at the silly babies from behind her friends.  
  
"Oh Great Peachy above, look at you! Look at your hair! We've been looking all over for you. We're were supposed to be at the salon hours ago!" Sparkleworks seethed. Her hot-pink tail swished in irritation.  
  
"Aa uur-ot," mumbled Bubblecup guiltily.  
  
"What? What is that thing in your mouth? Are you eating soap? This is not a good look for you."  
  
Bubblecup dropped the bubblewand, which was dripping suds down her chin. "I forgot," she repeated. "Sorry. I was playing with my friends."  
  
Mittens and Dazzle glowered imperiously at the rest the foals for good measure. They shuffled to the feet, averting their eyes, except a goggle- eyed Minty.  
  
"Why are you going to the salon if your hair is already done?" she asked curiously.  
  
Mittens sighed. Sparkleworks ignored her.  
  
"Well, hurry up and come along," she admonished Bubblecup. "Don't you want to have a beautiful new hairstyle to show your big brother?"  
  
Bubblecup didn't particularly look as if she did, but she dutifully trotted away with the fussing fashionistas, throwing a sad, apologetic look over her shoulder at her friends as they watched her go.  
  
"No one ever takes me to the salon," said Pinkie Pie regretfully.  
  
"Poor Bubblecup," said Candy Cane.  
  
"Poor Bubblecup," echoed Minty. "I'm glad I don't have a big brother. 


	2. Chapter 2

Bubblecup was a good natured little pony. Once the disappointment of leaving her game behind had faded, getting her hair done wasn't so bad. The shampoo had made a lot of bubbles, anyway, and that had been pretty good. Now she was checking her new style out in the mirror, grinning uncertainly up at her escorts.  
  
"Amberlocks outdid herself. Your hair looks very pretty now, doesn't it?" smiled Dazzle encouragingly. Mittens gave an approving nod.  
  
"It looks like liquid sunlight," sighed Wysteria. "So shiny and golden."  
  
Sunlight! The "fashion-forward" ponies around her all had hair in various shades of pink and purple. Bubblecup gave her yellow tail an experimental flick and shook her mane a little, swinging around the little beads that decorated the few narrow braids. They were kind of fun.  
  
"Shiny now that it's been conditioned," amended Sparkleworks. "Why, she might have a mane to rival the most lovely in ponyland, if only mine weren't quite so stunning today."  
  
Sweeping up hair trimmings behind them, Amberlocks rolled her eyes and snorted. Sparkleworks appeared not to hear.  
  
"The little flower beads on the braids weren't a bad idea, Wysteria," she continued. "We'll make a fashion-forward pony of you yet!"  
  
A strangled cough sounded from Amberlocks.  
  
"And me, too?" asked Bubblecup eagerly.  
  
"That's right, honey. Start young." She brushed past Amberlocks, ushering them out. "Do you think you would like some ice-cream now?"  
  
Does a Princess have tinsel? 


	3. Chapter 3

Several ice-cream stains later, Sparkleworks sighed inwardly at the loud thumping noises emenating from the cottage as they picked their way through its weedy garden, following a frolicking Bubblecup.  
  
"Wishawhirl must be inventing again," remarked the little sugar-buzzed pony.  
  
What weirdness was he up to this time? Behind her, Dazzle yelped as an expensive gauze bow caught on a jagged twig. Not for the last time, Sparkle cursed the shortage of good stallions in ponyland. Thank Great Peachy she had her good looks and feminine charms. She readjusted her anklets a little. That was better.  
  
Bubblecup reached the door and jiggled the handle, bending awkwardly to bang below it with her hips. "It doesn't open unless you do this," she said apologetically, as the door swung inwards. Bubblecup bounced in after it, calling, "Wishawhirl! It's meeeee!"  
  
Sparkleworks, Mittens, and Dazzle poked their heads in cautiously. Sparkleworks viewed with some distaste the small, undecorated room before her. Shafts of light filtering through the grubby windows illuminated swirls of slow-dancing dust motes and fell upon scattered maps and curious instruments. Over a basic sort of mustiness and the sweet smell of old straw, a strange chemical odor wafted from the multi-colored plethora of test tubes and flasks bubbling on various wooden benches. Sparkleworks noticed a missing table leg had been replaced with a stack of frayed- looking books.  
  
"Bubblecup? Is that you?" called a deep voice from farther into the house. A masculine voice.  
  
Sparkleworks nearly fell on her face as Dazzle Surprise pushed past her, Mittens scrambling in her wake. "And some friends!" cried Dazzle with determination, trotting towards the voice after Bubblecup. "Where are you, Wishawhirl? We just came by to say....oh my Rainbow...what?..."  
  
Her voice trailed off as she disappeared behind the corner, and Sparkleworks saw why as she rounded it after them. The four ponies halted in shock at the base of the rubble that ringed the room, staring up at where the second floor used to be. Soaring up from a clear spot in the center of the floor was a gigantic, well, what, exactly? It was anypony's guess what the complicated contraption might be intended to do, but Sparkleworks certainly couldn't make heads or tails of the mass of wires and tubing, rotating spheres, and many rows of glass vials. Perched at the top of the crazy machine, which rose above a ring of broken boards from the former second floor, was a multifaceted crystal as big as a grapefruit. Judging from the general thrust of the wires and do-dads, this was the focus of the operation. Hovering precariously on a rickety looking step- ladder by the top of the crystal, apparently making some adjustment to the wiring, was an orange stallion with wild blue hair, tousled (not unattractively, thought Sparkleworks optimistically) by huge safety goggles. A cool blue glow emerged from the crystal as the glass tubes behind it filled suddenly with swirling blue, red, and green fogs. The machine began a low hum.  
  
"Ha, ha! It's working!" he exclaimed triumphantly. He blinked down at his guests with a delighted smile. "My little Cuppa Bubble Tea! Wonderful! You're just in time! And you, er, other ponies!"  
  
Sparkleworks was still too horrified to be irritated that he didn't remember her. "What happened to your ceiling?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
"What's it do, Wishy?" inquired Bubblecup with enthusiasm.  
  
"I needed more room!" laughed the scientist scientist. "Isn't it grand? And don't call me Wishy. I prefer the noble Dream Valley moniker, Pinwheel."  
  
Sparkleworks exchanged glances with Dazzle Surprise and Mittens. She wasn't even sure this was worth pursuing, but she had put all the time and effort into the day with Bubblecup already. Smiling sweetly, she forced herself to say something nice.  
  
"Oh yes, it's very interesting. Very, well, very interesting."  
  
"Very open," chimed in Mittens.  
  
"Much taller now," added Sparkleworks in a hurry. Why was Mittens even talking? That flirt already had a boyfriend. "I'm Sparkleworks, remember me? I'm friends with your little sister. Why she's like a sister to me!"  
  
"Which would make him your brother," hissed Dazzle under her breath.  
  
Sparkleworks continued, "We just stopped in to say hello, because Bubblecup and I just went out to the salon to have our hair done together, didn't we? Doesn't it look nice?"  
  
"Yeah, see—" Bubblecup began.  
  
"And her good friend Dazzle bought her ice cream, didn't I, Bubbles? Wasn't that fun?" interjected Dazzle.  
  
"Well—"  
  
"Why don't you come down from that ladder and say hello?" Sparkleworks batted her eyelashes.  
  
"Yes, yes, yes," Wishawhirl dismissed this pleasantry impatiently. "I'm on the verge of an important breakthrough here. Monumental! This will change Ponyville forever! Do you know what this is?"  
  
"No," replied Sparkleworks with a sigh. Duh.  
  
Wishwhirl leaned forward on the ladder confidentially, while his audience cringed for the fall. "It's a Self-Amplifier," he whispered excitedly.  
  
"Whoa," breathed Dazzle shamelessly. "You are so smart."  
  
"What's it do? What's it do?" cried Bubbleworks, driven to a frenzy of excitement. Her hair beads clacked as she bounced up and down in agitation.  
  
"Don't you see? This machine is the one I've been working towards all my life. This is the one that will work. You see," he gestured expansively, rocking backwards dangerously on the ladder, "This machine will be the thing that restores the magic of our ancestors to Ponyland."  
  
He gazed at the others, obviously expecting congratulations. There was a pause. Mittens began what sounded like a snicker, but switched to a cough after Sparkleworks accidentally kicked her. Bubblecup's mouth had dropped open, her eyes wide.  
  
"Like in Dream Valley?" she breathed.  
  
"Like in Dream Valley," he confirmed with a smile. "Come closer! Come, come! I will show you how it's going to work!" 


	4. Chapter 4

Sparkleworks, like every other pony in Ponyville, had heard this sort of thing from Wishawhirl before, and wasn't holding her breath for magic powers. Wishawhirl was obsessed with the old stories about Dream Valley, ponies with magical properties, and the mythical Rainbow of Light. This miraculous "Self-Amplifier" was simply the latest in a long series of potions, sprays, and other gimmicks to "restore the magic of our ancestors." Occasionally, through a lucky accident, these had proved to have some actual useful property, like the one liquid that turned out to significantly prolong the life of cut flowers or the particularly nasty tasting but curative potion with which baby ponies were now threatened regularly. Once or twice, disaster had loomed in the introduction of the invention, as in the Horn-Welding machine designed to turn any pony into a magical unicorn by bonding an artificial horn to his or her forehead. In these cases, Kimono, the reigning Record-Keeper, could usually talk him out of implementing whatever plans he had, though in the case of the Horn- Welder, Alpha Sunny Daze herself had been forced to simply put her hoof down and forbid its use. Most often, however, the inventions had no effect except inducing shrieks of laughter, derisive jeers, and laughing admonitions to give it up. Stubborn or crazy, Wishawhirl never seemed discouraged by these episodes, but returned to his workshop to think up a new scheme.  
  
Although always a bright and innovative pony, Wishawhirl hadn't always been a crazy, obsessive one. The problem seemed to have begun a few years ago, after he attended a lecture by Kimono on the significance of Birthbrands, the unique symbols every pony bore on one side of their hindquarters. Sparkleworks hadn't gone to the lecture, of course, so she didn't know exactly what put the nonsense in his head. She did know that Wishawhirl became a laughing stock immediately thereafter by claiming that he and his sister, because they were both what he dubbed "air ponies" (by virtue of the pinwheel and bubble symbols that graced their rumps), must have the power to float. There followed much blue-in-the-face breath-holding and intense concentration as he tried to levitate himself several times a day, and a series of disasters from jumping off tall objects and claiming to get "air time." Even Bubblecup, normally a very easy-going and unselfconscious young pony, had been embarrassed and reluctant when her big brother had encouraged her participate in the delusional displays. When he was finally forced to admit that his magic powers weren't up to snuff, he devoted himself to locating Dream Valley and finding out why magic powers were apparently gone from Ponyland, refusing to accept the generally held view that only unicorns (also in absentia) could perform magic. He pestered Kimono for time in the library archives and access to the oldest records in the castle, set up the beginnings of his research workshop, and produced his first flop, the Birthbrand-Doubler. He had quickly gone from a promisingly attractive and good-natured young stallion to a reclusive and distracted, though still attractive, young stallion.  
  
However, the shortage of Ponyville stallions in general, and of bright-eyes handsome ones with dashing royal-blue hair in specific, meant that he nevertheless received quite a few callers. Even, thought Sparkleworks in frustration, if he didn't have the common courtesy to get his air-rump off his ladder and say hello to a particularly good-looking one. And her friends. Although, she considered, he was probably he was simply overwhelmed by her beauty and charm, especially since he spent so much time puttering around alone in this cottage, and thereby made so shy he felt the need to escape her dazzling presence. She had that effect on a lot of men, and was often forced to, well, trap them into dates, for lack of a better turn of phrase. Ah, beauty. A blessing and a curse. In this case, she would have to feign interest in this Self-Amplifier until she could lure him into a romantic dinner. She would also have to outmaneuver her friends, particularly Dazzle, who was as painfully single as herself. Mittens might flirt, but she would be unlikely to compromise her hold on her très cool sweetheart, Snowflake. And Wysteria...where was Wysteria? She must have been left behind at the Café somehow. She was just so quiet. Although in this case it was one less doe-eyed competitor.  
  
"You see, I was pondering my old Birthbrand-Doubler not so long ago," Wishawhirl was explaining to the ponies finding their way to the center of the room." And I got to thinking, maybe the missing Rainbow of Light is the key, maybe we need some kind of rainbow-processing before we try the doubling, and then it hit me! A crystal!"  
  
He chuckled in delight, shaking his head, "It seems so obvious in retrospect, doesn't it? I mean after all, aren't all rainbows really rainbows of light? Ha, ha!"  
  
Sparkleworks wasn't sure she got the joke. She and her friends tittered nervously. Bubblecup had the anxious look of a student who is confused despite trying very hard to listen well. Wishawhirl resumed his lecture.  
  
"See, the crystal is the key, though these information-gathering and amplification devices are very important, too, of course." He indicated the mess below him. "But the crystal itself has some very unusual properties. For one thing, its entire structure is aligned in parallel. Very important, you see, so that all the ends of the crystal formation can be found on these wide, flat ends: here and here. All except this part here on the edge, this is grown in a complicated closed fractal pattern. It took me weeks to grow a satisfactory one in the lab. So, around at this end I attached these devices here, to feed signals into the crystal where they are processed through the fractal, to then travel on the parallel line to the other side here, where they emerge from the crystal having been rainbow- processed AND amplified."  
  
"What's amplified?" interrupted Bubblecup.  
  
"Intensified," replied Wishawhirl, "Made bigger and louder and better. More of everything you started with."  
  
Sparkleworks was confused, too. She craned her neck up, searching the crystal. "What is it that you started with exactly?" She immediately regretted the question. Stupid, stupid. Better to just keep smiling silently than admit you don't understand.  
  
"Ah, an excellent question!" exclaimed Wishawhirl to her surprise, "I was just getting to that. The data being collected is you!"  
  
"Me?" Sparkleworks was startled.  
  
"Well, you know, you, me...whoever we happen to be Amplifying. Sound, appearance, smell, so forth...I figure we just need to take whatever magical part of our nature we have left latent in ourselves and intensify it, rainbowify it, and project it back out onto that same pony, you see!" He whooped with glee. "Isn't it inspired?"  
  
"Fantastic," said Dazzle, nodding enthusiastically.  
  
"Would you like to be the first to try it, Razzle?" he offered in delight.  
  
"Dazzle," she corrected. "Dazzle Surprise."  
  
"Yes, of course. Sorry. Wouldn't you like to know what that Dazzle can really do?"  
  
"I could already show you a Surprise," she said slyly.  
  
"R-really?" he stammered. "Is that so?"  
  
Sparkleworks considered butting in as a volunteer to regain control of the conversation, but couldn't help but remember the Horn-Welder.  
  
"You've worked so hard on this," she remarked, instead. "We certainly wouldn't want to rob you of your moment of glory. You should be the first."  
  
"Besides," chimed in Bubblecup doubtfully, "it might hurt." 


	5. Chapter 5

Wishawhirl positioned himself on the floor before his machine, where the flat face of the crystal now tilted down impassively. He had just finished a lengthy series of data gathering exercises and now he was ready to transmit the amplified information to himself. Or something. Sparkleworks watched nervously from the sidelines with her friends. Alpha Sunny Daze would almost certainly not have allowed this test to progress; who knows what this machine could be doing? That stupid stallion had better not hurt himself.  
  
"Go ahead and throw the switch," he said hoarsely, glancing at his little sister, who stood by the lever as he had instructed. Bubblecup shared uneasy glances with the other ponies, but no one found anything to say. She threw the switch. There was a hum, and a frcation of a second where nothing happened. Then, beams of colored light streamed from the crystal's open face, suddenly covering Wishawhirl with a shifting pattern. He froze in place, muscles tensed.  
  
"It's working!" he cried. "What's it doing?" he asked anxiously, his eyes darting from one startled face to another. "I don't want to move while it transmits. I don't want to miss any of the amplification."  
  
"It's making lights!" said Bubblecup excitedly, and then noticing where the light spilled off of Wishawhirl onto the white wall behind him, she added, "Orange and blue lights! It's making lights like you!"  
  
"I think I can feel it working!" he cried exaltedly.  
  
"What's happening?" whispered Sparkleworks in awe, as she and her friends gazed with open mouths at the light and color streaming down on the stallion. Just then, a new voice made them jump. As if an imperfect double had appeared in the room, Wishawhirl could suddenly be heard from the other side of the machine, tinny and hollow, "I think it's warmed up for long enough by now...let's get started."  
  
In shock everyone turned to see the source of the voice. It was coming from the crystal.  
  
"Great Momma Peachy," exclaimed Sparkleworks. "He's made two of himself!"  
  
The ponies stared, thunderstruck, waiting for a doppelganger to appear. None did. The voice of Wishawhirl continued to issue from the crystal.  
  
"First we do audio information," it was saying. "So I'll do some vocal sampling...."  
  
"Wait." Mittens was frowning as the disembodied voice began to run through the series of scales. She looked back at where the real Wishwhirl was standing, studying the light playing over and around him. "That's all stuff you said earlier."  
  
"Well, yes," admitted Wishawhirl reluctantly. "That must be the audio part of the amplification, though."  
  
"Wishawhirl," said Mittens. "Move over for a minute."  
  
"No!" Horror tinged Wishawhirl's voice. "And interrupt the amplification?"  
  
"Move!" she commanded, stepping towards him menacingly.  
  
"Never!" he choked, but he shrank back with wide eyes and flattened ears as she advanced on him. "What are you doing? Don't get in the amplification stream!"  
  
Mittens leapt at him, taking a swift nip at his withers. Yowling, Wishawhirl jerked away.  
  
"Mittens!" gasped Sparkleworks, as she and the others gaped at the crazy pink pony doggedly herding the quailing Wishawhirl out of the beams.  
  
"We're just seeing a sound and light show, ladies," Mittens informed them. "Look."  
  
As she stepped out of the light, Sparkleworks was amazed to see Wishawhirl's larger-than-life face appear transparently on the wall behind them, looming towards them with some strange distortion. It's mouth opened.  
  
"See if I stand here," the tinny crystal voice said, "this lens picks up visual data. Let's give it an extra second for the eyes." The face on the wall slowly turned one huge wide eye towards them.  
  
"Yikes," said Bubblecup. "Gross."  
  
The face was switching eyes. Comprehension was slowly dawning on everyone.  
  
"It's just a like a picture," said Dazzle. "It's like a moving light picture on the wall." Indeed, there on the wall, Wishawhirl's face was receding. His whole body was visible but smaller, now, as he displayed father away for the machine. She approached and wove a hoof experimentally in front of the light. Her shadow appeared on the wall. Sparkleworks realized she'd been holding her breath. She let out a sigh of relief. Awkward half-smiles went around the room. The real Wishawhirl looked stricken with disappointment, but on the wall, he was eagerly displaying himself on each side and holding up his hoof with the small blue heart on it.  
  
"Don't want it to miss anything," the image was saying importantly. "Do you think it got a good look at my tail?" A swath of blue swished across the wall. The ponies giggled.  
  
"Let's make sure it gets a really good look at my Birthbrand." Suddenly, a huge orange rump zoomed up on the wall. The ponies began to laugh in earnest as the gigantic pinwheel-covered butt bobbed up and down. "These magical symbols are going to be absolutely critical to amplify, of course."  
  
The words of the light picture were drowned out as everyone except Wishawhirl rocked with laughter. Wishawhirl's ears were pink, his nostrils flaring. He tripped towards the machine to stop the display.  
  
"Okay, okay!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly as it rose. "Show's over!"  
  
"I guess you're not magical?" Bubblecup questioned, struggling to stand from where she had been rolling on the floor. "It didn't work?"  
  
"What do you mean?" grinned Sparkleworks. She couldn't help herself. "It certainly amplified his rear end!"  
  
The ponies roared again.  
  
"It just needs some adjustments!" protested Wishawhirl over the laughter. "I just need some peace and quiet around here, so I can get some work done! Why don't all you," he sputtered, "go get your hair done or something? And leave me alone?"  
  
Bubblecup looked hurt, "I just got my hair done, Wishy. Didn't you see it?"  
  
"It's Pinwheel!" hollered Wishawhirl. "Get out! All of you!"  
  
After the door slammed shut behind them in the garden, and the divas had a chance to resettle their dignity, they began to find their way back towards the town. Bubblecup turned uncertainly towards her older companions.  
  
"He doesn't usually get mad like that," she said. It was true. Wishawhirl usually just let these kinds of disappointment roll off his back. Maybe they had been too hard on him. Sparkleworks certainly hadn't gotten her date. There was a small contemplative silence as the ponies looked towards the horizon, where a broad orange sun was sinking towards the hills. Unfortunately, this seemed to remind all of them of the same thing. Smiles crept onto some of the serious faces and then they started to snicker.  
  
"Let's make sure it gets a REALLY good look at my behind," mocked Mittens, wiggling hers.  
  
"Yes, I think my rump will be CRITICAL to my research," snorted Dazzle.  
  
When the giggling died down a little while later, Bubblecup piped up, "I'm sorry his machine didn't work. I thought it was kind of neat, though. We should tell Wysteria about it. Where did she go?"  
  
"Actually," said Sparkleworks, with gears slowly grinding in her head, "It could be useful, maybe, if you think about it. I wonder if he could get it to do that again."  
  
"Yeah!" said Bubblecup enthusiastically. "We could do some really cool stuff with a machine like that, if maybe, we could, um, take it someplace with us, too. We could make a light picture of somebody else, like maybe Wsyteria, because she didn't get to see it, and---  
  
"Bubblecup," interrupted Sparkleworks, who was suddenly very tired. "I think it's time to go back to the nursery." 


	6. Chapter 6

Wysteria felt a little dizzy, swiveling her head around as she looked around the café. She had come in with Sparkleworks, Mittens, and Dazzle Surprise, but now she didn't see any of them. Had they left without her while she was saying hello here to Sweetberry? What were they doing? She felt a little confused, like her thoughts were floating out of her head as she tried to pin them down. Oh yes, getting ice cream for Bubblecup. Where was Bubblecup? She looked down at the ice melting in her nearly empty glass on the tabletop.  
  
"What's this we're drinking, Sweetberry?"  
  
"That's a Rainbow Mint Julep, honey," drawled Sweetberry easily, her voice a thick, sweet syrup, deep in the back of her mouth. She sounded like she liked to feel the words in her throat when she talked. When Wysteria pestered her to know where her beautiful accent came from, she'd only say, "Why, down South, honey." Sweetberry raised an eyebrow, watching Wysteria puzzle over her glass. "Ah think you mighta had enougha that. We bettah get you somethin' to eat."  
  
Wysteria followed her eyes to where Cotton Candy, who owned the café and ran it single-handedly, was emerging from the kitchen carrying a huge tray of steaming muffins. Her already pink face was flushed from heat and exertion, giving her a luminous candy glow. She absently pushed away an errant strand of pale blue hair curled around her cheek as she set down the tray and began to transfer the muffins to linen-lined basket, smiling and humming as she worked.  
  
"How does a muffin sound?" Sweetberry asked, rising from the table.  
  
"A muffin. Hmmm." Wysteria pondered this. Sweetberry was looking at her funny. "I'd love a muffin."  
  
Before Sweetberry could head for the counter, Cotton Candy was already bustling towards them with a few muffins on a plate, a delicious warm scent of apples and cinnamon wafting from it.  
  
"Hello," she smiled. "You ladies care for a fresh apple muffin?"  
  
"You are a mind-readah, Cotton Candy," sighed Sweetberry, sinking gracefully back into her chair.  
  
"You don't mind if I join you for a little break, do you?" asked Cotton Candy as she pulled out a chair. "I just need to rest my hooves for a couple minutes, and the café's been hopping all day."  
  
"Of course not, honey. You take a load off. Ah don't know how you can look so gorgeous when you've been runnin' around all day like the Smooze was after you." She paused for a bite of muffin, closing her eyes dramatically. "These are to die for."  
  
"Thanks," Cotton Candy grinned, breaking apart a muffin. "Running around agrees with me, I guess."  
  
"Well, not me," chuckled Sweetberry. "Ah can't keep mah hair curled unless Ah just relax in this nihce breeze with a cool drink. Wysteria, honey, try a muffin."  
  
Wysteria giggled and reached a little woozily for a muffin. Cotton Candy's eyes flickered suspiciously towards the glasses.  
  
"What are you two drinking?"  
  
Wysteria giggled again as she tried to get the wrapper off her muffin. Sweetberry smiled mysteriously.  
  
"Just a little Rainbow Juice, with a little cool mint."  
  
"Any special ingredients added to that juice I served you?"  
  
"Ah can't imagine what you mean."  
  
"Sweetberry," Cotton Candy said sternly, lowering her voice, and looking around the cafe. "You know I don't mind if you bring that in for yourself, but I definitely don't approve of your giving it out in the café. I don't think Wysteria's really holding it well."  
  
"Oh, now, Ah only gave her taste," scoffed Sweetberry, nonplussed. "She's jest fine, aren't you, honey?"  
  
Wysteria was feeling mighty fine, but just a little dizzy. She tried to affect a posture more like Sweetberry's. Sweetberry always looked so elegant and relaxed. "Sure I am!"  
  
"You are a bad influence on younger ponies, Sweetberry," scolded Cotton Candy. Sweetberry just smiled serenely. Cotton Candy might have had more to say, but a young stallion, uniformly golden in color except for the red- ribboned lollipops of his Birthbrand and the matching heart on his hoof, sidled up behind her and gave her a nip. She let out a small shriek.  
  
"Butterscotch, you rascal!" she exclaimed, but she was smiling.  
  
"Oops. Hi gals," He tipped his straw hat, grinning devilishly. He looked like delicious grinning toffee. "Hey Cotton Candy, I brought you some more rainbowberries. I left them in the kitchen."  
  
"You better not have gotten into anything in there."  
  
"Well, someone did leave some cookies just lying out on the counter...."  
  
Cotton Candy shook her head in dismay. "Those are for the nursery! Were for the nursery. How many did you leave me?"  
  
He shrugged. "A few."  
  
The pink pony got to her hooves, shaking her head in dismay. "I better go make some more. You are almost more trouble than your rainbowberries are worth."  
  
"I could stop bringing them..." He gave Wysteria a wink, pulling out Cotton Candy's vacated chair, as if they shared some joke. Did he know her? She didn't remember ever talking to the golden stallion. She blushed, hoping it didn't show through her regular purple.  
  
"No, no! Not yet, anyway."  
  
"Not until Ah learn to cultivate them," interjected Sweetberry, who oversaw berry production in Ponyville. "And Ah will figure it out one of these days. Never had a berry give me so much trouble. I've got no ideah how they grow in the wild."  
  
"As soon as you figure it out, Sweetberry, you let me know. Then we can get rid of this rapscallion who eats all my sweets."  
  
Butterscotch tipped his chair back on two legs, folding his arms. "Let me know, too, if I'm going to go out of business."  
  
Cotton Candy continued to shake her head as she trotted off to the kitchen.  
  
"You find rainbowberries in the woods?" asked Wysteria shyly, curiously studying his dirty knees and the riot of curly tinsel exploding around his hair. Most boys detinseled if they had so much. She had seen him before, in stores and parties. What was it Star-Swirl had called him? A social something...  
  
"Yup," he said proudly. "Er, what's your name...?"  
  
"Wysteria."  
  
"Well, Wysteria, I know where all the best patches are. All the secrets of the forest."  
  
"Is that so?" said Sweetberry casually, sipping her Mint Julep. Butterscotch's eyes strayed over Sweetberry.  
  
"Yeah," he nodded knowledgably, searching for signs that his audience was impressed. "Because, it's really important to be in touch with our natural surroundings and stuff, and, um, because stallions should really learn to help out with, like gathering food and stuff. I mean, also, in nature, you can really get in touch with your feelings. Plus, it's really fun, like especially with another pony." He looked hopeful.  
  
In general, Sweetberry seemed mildly amused, but otherwise uninterested in the pronounced effect she had on men. Perhaps it was just because most of the Ponyville stallions were so much younger than she. Certainly she never seemed to approach them with the fierce determination of Sparkleworks, or to feel shy or nervous around them like Wysteria usually did. Though not as much today, for some reason. She felt comparatively quite bold. In fact, she was going to say something to this boy.  
  
"So, I hear you're a social mactivist," Wysteria ventured loudly.  
  
The "mac" looked stunned. His ears reddened. Sweetberry trembled with suppressed laughter as she gently patted Wysteria's arm.  
  
"Ah think you mean activist, honey."  
  
"Really?" Had she said something funny? "I thought Star-Swirl said mactivist? She said that's why you always show up at the forest-garden association and meditation and stuff."  
  
Butterscotch grinned sheepishly, and covered his eyes with his hooves. "I guess she must have meant activist. Because I care about, you know, the forest and stuff."  
  
Sweetberry was smiling widely into her glass, not looking at either of her tablemates.  
  
"Oh," said Wysteria quietly, looking from one to the other. She had a feeling she was going to feel embarrassed about this later, as soon as she figured out what was so funny. "Me, too."  
  
"Oh yeah? I mean, I know I've seen you in the gardens a lot. Maybe, I could, uh, show you some forest secrets or something later. I mean, not tonight, because it's starting to get dark out, but tomorrow, maybe," he said, still red. He looked uncertainly at Sweetberry, who was draining her glass. She threw him a sidelong glance.  
  
"Oh don't mind me, honey. If you weren't so red, I would call you shameless."  
  
Wysteria was processing the invitation. Did he mean a date? With her?  
  
"Oh gosh," she stammered, looking to Sweetberry for guidance.  
  
"Well for goodness sake, honey, go ahead and tell the boy yes if you want to go."  
  
"Okay," blushed Wysteria. "Yes." 


	7. Chapter 7

"It is this almost unfailing match between the theme of a Birthbrand and the professions, interests, or natural talents of it's bearer that probably gave rise to the legend of magic; the preternatural affiliation for gardening, perhaps, of a pony with a floral symbol might be exaggerated in the public imagination into a "magical" ability to make flowers bloom even in the depths of winter. Although the author is aware that this view is unpopular, it is her belief that...."  
  
Wishawhirl was interrupted by a tapping at his door. Were those silly mares back? He rested his elbows on the massive old tome before him, rubbing his tired eyes. He could feel a headache gathering in the tense muscles behind them. The soft tapping came again.  
  
"It's open," he called reluctantly.  
  
The door creaked open. "Pinwheel?"  
  
A tranquil shining face, the cool pale-blue of moonlight, peered hesitantly around the door. The pony's creamy blonde mane floated in gentle waves down her long, arching neck.  
  
"Moondancer," sighed Wishawhirl in relief. "I thought you might be someone else. Those women that Bubblecup is always bringing over..."  
  
"Just me," smiled Moondancer gently. "May I come in?"  
  
"Of course. Clear yourself a space."  
  
Moondancer walked slowly into the study and laboratory area.  
  
"Studying in the dark? That candle's almost burnt out."  
  
Wishawhirl glanced at the guttering candle, dripping wax onto the corner of the oak desk where it rested. He made an indeterminate humph.  
  
"You'll hurt your eyes. Do you mind if I light this lantern?"  
  
"Be my guest."  
  
The lantern glowed into life as Moondancer adjusted it. The warm light drove the shadows into the corners of the room, behind stack of books, sneaking around the laboratory equipment.  
  
"It's smoky in here, too," she added. "You should open a window. The night is very beautiful."  
  
Wishawhirl stared blankly at the latched window nearest him as Moondancer tried to pry it open. The moon outside was blurry from the grime on the glass. The window gave way suddenly, opening outwards. A sweet, cool breeze blew into the room, lightly ruffling the corners of the open book's pages. The clean smell of grass and dew overtook the stuffy smokiness. A chorus of crickets and summer peepers sang a droning harmony outside: chir-chir. Chir- chir. Pee-per! The moon was now crisp and round in the window frame. Wishawhirl turned with an attempt at a smile to his friend, who was dusting clean a bench to sit on.  
  
"Shouldn't you be at the nursery at this time of night, singing lullabies?"  
  
She smiled back, tilting her head a little. "It's later than you think, my friend. Baby ponies are dreaming right now. Besides, we skipped the lullabies tonight. All the baby ponies wanted to hear Bubblecup's bedtime story. All about her big brother's moving light picture invention."  
  
Wishawhirl groaned and slammed his face down on his book. What had she told them?  
  
"They're all very excited to see a moving light picture," she continued, arranging herself on the bench. "I'm more than a little curious about it myself."  
  
A muffled whimper issued from the book.  
  
"Are you okay?" asked Moondancer with some concern.  
  
"Yeah," sighed Wishawhirl, lifting his head. "Just...I don't know..."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Well, the Self-Amplifier doesn't work. It records light and sound pictures of whatever you show it, and stores them in the fractal crystal, I think. You can project them onto the wall, then."  
  
Moondancer raised her eyebrows. "Wow."  
  
"Bubblecup was here this afternoon with these awful mares, just reeking of perfume, and they all laughed at it."  
  
"Yeah...?"  
  
Wishawhirl knew she must wonder what the big deal was, since he normally didn't care if they laughed; he would usually just go back to the drawing board. His stomach twisted as he remembered his bobbing rump on the wall.  
  
"Well, it recorded me, before I knew what it would really do." He hesitated. "And then, when it showed the picture back, you know, I could see...me. What I looked like."  
  
He gulped, hanging his head down. Moondancer didn't say anything.  
  
"Well, I looked really stupid," he muttered. "All excited about this thing that didn't even work. And I just thought, is this what I look like to everyone else?"  
  
Moondancer slowly nodded her understanding. Wishawhirl took a shaky breath.  
  
"And I guess no one thinks I'm ever going to figure this out. Maybe they're right."  
  
"I see."  
  
Wishawhirl listened to the quiet rustling from the wind and to the crickets outside. An owl hooted somewhere nearby.  
  
"What are you reading?" asked Moondancer finally.  
  
"Oh, just some old crackpot," muttered Wishawhirl. "She thinks Ponyland was never magical at all, that it's all superstition."  
  
Moondancer laughed a little. "Why are you reading that?"  
  
"Gotta know all the angles," he replied dejectedly. "In case they're right about something." He looked up, frowning in frustration. "It's just so frustrating, you know, that there are no really good records or writing from the time. The descriptions of magic are inconsistent and sometimes hard to believe, and no one seems to know where the magic comes from, or if they do they don't ever mention it. Stupid Dream Valley."  
  
Moondancer leaned forward and fixed a penetrating gaze on him. "That pony is not right," she said firmly, tapping the book. "Our Dream Valley ancestors did have magic. And we can, too. I know it."  
  
He met her starry eyes, piercing violet and blue, hope twinging in his heart. "How do you know?"  
  
"I just do," she said seriously. "I feel it. It's important to me."  
  
He slumpped, disappointed. "When I started, I felt it, too. But faith wears thin sometimes. I want proof. I want results." He slapped the desk for emphasis, as his voice rose. "Ever since I started to think about it, it just feels like something is missing from my life. Maybe when I was little I just thought it would just be cool to have magic powers, like any baby pony, but later I looked at my Birthbrand, and I thought 'This is my birthright. This is the birthright of every pony. There's some fundamental part of myself lying asleep.' I mean, what is this symbol supposed to mean? That I will have an affinity for pinwheels?"  
  
"Maybe it's supposed to represent your thoughts spinning," suggested Moondancer. "Maybe it's more metaphorical."  
  
He shook his head impatiently. "No, there is something missing from life here, and I know what it is. It's the Rainbow of Light! It's ponies who can take to the sky and ponies who can disappear into thin air! There's a spirit of adventure, the soul of Ponyland..." Wishawhirl's voice had taken on a hungry edge of longing. "There has to be a way to find those things. If there isn't...I don't know."  
  
"You will figure it out, Pinwheel," Moondancer pronounced emphatically, sharing his intensity. She reached forward and set one hoof on his arm. "But you can't burn yourself out doing it. You need to remember to come outside sometimes, and see the stars. Come to the café. Walk in the forest. And you need a little perspective."  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, a bit taken aback.  
  
"Well, all you can think about is how you haven't reached your goal yet. But you aren't taking any time to enjoy the journey! Look at the kind of discoveries you are making along the way! The Self-Amplifier didn't do what you want, but moving light and sound pictures...that's amazing all by itself. Maybe it's even more amazing that you made something like that without magic."  
  
Wishawhirl considered this, absently staring at a moth that had come in the window and was fluttering erratically around the lantern. It made a small thunking noise as it threw itself against the glass.  
  
"Don't you think it's silly, though?"  
  
"No!" she exclaimed. "Is it still here? I'd really like..."  
  
She was interrupted by a loud rapping at the door.  
  
"Wishawhirl!" came a call at the door. "Are you there?"  
  
"Lot of vistors tonight," muttered Wishawhirl, getting to his hooves. 


	8. Chapter 8

"I prefer to be called Pinwh--," he began to lecture as he opened the door, but stopped short, flabbergasted by who met his eyes. "Kimono?"   
  
A stately mare stood waiting outside when it opened. In the dim light, the yellow Japanese lanterns of her Birthbrand seemed to glow against the dusky violet-rose of her coat, the color of the sky at twilight. As usual, her thick hair was elegantly and sensibly braided up and out of the way, tinsel twinkling within the dark purple like stars in a deep night. What was the Record-Keeper doing here? And at this time of night?   
  
"I brought you a book I thought you would like. A Bushwoolie history," she announced. He glanced at the brown satchel around her neck, and back up to her face in confusion.   
  
"Couldn't I pick it up at the Library? Why did you bring it all the way down here?"   
  
She was peering over his shoulder into the study beyond, where Moondancer was waiting. She pawed the ground impatiently, and dropped her voice.   
  
"I am also bearing a message from Alpha Sunny Daze."   
  
Wishawhirl's manners came back to him in a flash. He immediately stepped aside, gesturing her in with a small bow. "I am honored. Please come inside."   
  
Wishawhirl was well acquainted with Kimono due to the amount of time he spent with her going through old grimoires and conversing after public lectures. He would have hesitated to use the word friend to describe her, though he valued her wisdom and good-judgment and admired her unflagging devotion to the Alpha. Whether due to the weighty and time-consuming nature of her official duties or to her naturally introspective, hermetic disposition, she wasn't the kind of pony who invited familiarity. Or for that matter, made whimsical nighttime visits without a compelling reason. A sick chill crept out from his stomach as he realized word must have reached the Alpha of the fiasco with the Self-Amplifier.   
  
"Would you like to sit down?" Wishawhirl offered, indicating the bench from which Moondancer had risen respectfully.   
  
"No thank-you, I prefer to stand. But please seat yourselves. There's no need to stand." Kimono nosed around in her satchel, emerging with a small blue book.   
  
"_Rolling with the Bushwoolies_," read Wishawhirl. "Fascinating. I've been looking for more information of Bushwoolies." He took the book from her and placed it on his desk He and Moondancer both reseated themselves uncertainly.   
  
"Well." Kimono seemed to have exhausted her stalling tactics. Her eyes slid towards Moondancer significantly. Finally she cleared her throat and simply said, "Wishawhirl, perhaps you would be more comfortable if we spoke alone."   
  
"I prefer to called by the noble Dream Valley moniker…" he began stiffly.   
  
"Pinwheel. Yes, yes, I know," she snorted. "Are you aware that Pinwheel is a mare's name?"   
  
Wishawhirl colored slightly. "It's an ambisexual name," he countered.   
  
"Maybe I should leave?" suggested Moondancer.   
  
"No, Moondancer, stay," insisted Wishawhirl. "Anything the Record-Keeper has to tell me, you may hear as well. As long as that doesn't interfere with the wishes of the Alpha."   
  
Kimono shook her head. "I only came so late to spare you any embarrassment. I fear what I have to tell you may be difficult enough without any additional gossip."   
  
Wishawhirl's mouth was dry as he tried to swallow. He tried to speak. "I think I know what this might be about…"   
  
Kimono cut him off. "Word has reached Alpha Sunny Daze of your latest…invention. A device intended to imbue to user with magical powers. Is this correct?"   
  
"Yes, the Self-Amplifier" he said admitted. "But it doesn't work yet."   
  
"We hear that it instead creates a record of what is shown, which it then displays through moving pictures and sound."   
  
He nodded.   
  
"The Alpha was very concerned to hear that you tested your latest invention today without consulting her for safety guidelines. We understand there were several other ponies present, including your little sister, none of whom knew how to operate the machine. None of them would have known how to disable it should something have gone awry and you were somehow incapacitated, correct?"   
  
He nodded again miserably.   
  
She took a breath. "The Alpha feels that due to your previous communications and other…incidents…that you must have been implicitly aware that this kind of reckless experimentation, especially with children present, would be against her wishes."   
  
From the Kimono's tone of voice and twitching left ear, Wishawhirl gathered that the Alpha wasn't the only one who felt that way. Guilt was a fist squeezing his innards as he remembered the Bubblecup's nervous face as she threw the lever to start the machine.   
  
"I was just so excited, I wasn't thinking about it that way…" he began.   
  
"Therefore," continued Kimono over him. "The Alpha is inclined to restrict you from further investigations and inventing of this nature. She asked me to convey her displeasure and also the news that you are banned from further activity of this kind until she sees fit. Additionally, she wishes to confiscate anything she feels may pose a threat."   
  
Wishawhirl's eyes had grown wide in shock. He was gripped with despair as a blur of images from the afternoon rushed through his head: the silly gossips, the ridiculous arrogance of the pony on the wall, his little sister's golden hair and smile. He put his head in his hooves, as his throat tightened. Moondancer's brow was creased with worry.   
  
"However," added Kimono purposefully. "I suggested that I first investigate this machine for potential usefulness. Visual and audio records of events such as important meetings would be invaluable for the archives, and I have advised the Alpha that we would not want to rob ourselves of the mind that brought us such an invention. IF the machine works as I hope, and IF we can guarantee it's safety, then I MAY be able to convince the Alpha to allow you to continue SOME research."   
  
"She's right," said Wishawhirl brokenly, speaking to the floor. "I shouldn't be allowed to continue. When I think of what I could have done today…I've been so horrible."   
  
Kimono shifted uncomfortably at this unusual display, and shared a look of concern with Moondancer.   
  
"But you may have also invented something of great use," ventured Moondancer.   
  
"Why don't you show us the machine?" suggested Kimono, a little more gently.   
  
Wishawhirl glumly led them to the Self-Amplifier, painfully aware that the state of the ceilingless room did not speak well of his reliability. Kimono slowly circled the tower of baubles and wires amidst the wreckage, making inquiries as to its workings and theory. In spite of himself, Wishawhirl found his mind turning the problems and postulates over in his mind as he explained what he had planned, how he thought the machine might have produced the results it had, and the beginnings of his ideas for what kind of corrections he could make to it.   
  
"It seems safe enough right now," commented Kimono cautiously.   
  
"I was in the projected image for several minutes today," said Wishawhirl. "It seems to be no different from ordinary colored lights to me, except that they are in shapes. It certainly didn't do me any damage." _Physical damage_, he thought.   
  
"Can you show the picture again?"   
  
He hated to replay the record of himself, but forced himself to do it like a penance. _I have to face up to what I'm really like_, he thought grimly, as he watched the humiliating record of himself. However, no laughter was heard from the sidelines where Kimono and Moondancer stood safely away from the moving lights, even as the pictures of his Birthbrand appeared. Indeed, had Kimono raised her eyebrows as though impressed and slowly nodded at intervals, while Moondancer looked pensive, head cocked to one side. Now that he thought about it, the machine could make good records for the Archives. Imagine if Dream Valley had left such records!   
  
"I guess that's just about it. Let's try the amplification!" the voice from the crystal was saying excitedly. Wishawhirl's image walked off the wall and the picture sputtered out.   
  
"Very interesting. _Very_ interesting," Kimono mused. "A shame it's so big, though. We would have to build another one in the great hall, I suppose."   
  
"Well," said Wishawhirl meekly. "If all we wanted was the picture and sound, I could probably make it a lot smaller. Most of the rest of that stuff is for amplifying and other kinds of data collection."   
  
Kimono and Moondancer had both turned to him with interest.   
  
"How small?"   
  
"Maybe as big as your head?" he guessed. "A little bigger?"   
  
A smile twitched on Moondancer's lips. Kimono looked pleased.   
  
"How soon?"   
  
"How soon what?"   
  
"Can you get that done? I want to show Alpha Sunny Daze."   
  
Wishawhirl's heart leapt to his throat. "Tomorrow! I'll finish it tonight!" he cried excitedly.   
  
Kimono shook her head. "Calm down. You need to get some sleep. Moondancer and I should leave you to rest. Just come let me know when it's done, as soon as you finish. Or let me know when you have a real estimate for how long it will take. Come find me tomorrow sometime."   
  
She started to make her way back to the door, followed by Moondancer. Wishawhirl accompanied them outside. As they walked through the mess of a garden and Moondancer and Kimono reached the main path, Kimono turned Wishawhirl for some parting words.   
  
"Wishawhirl," Kimono warned. "No more experimenting for a while. Let me help you sort this out first. Then we can discuss the best way to proceed. If I hear about anything else like this, though…" Her voice trailed off threateningly.   
  
Wishawhirl nodded respectfully. "Thank you, Kimono." He wisely choose not to remind her to call him Pinwheel. Kimono looked expectantly at Moondancer.   
  
"I'll catch up in a minute, if you don't mind, Record-Keeper," Moondancer said shyly. Kimono raised an eyebrow, but nodded her goodnights and started walking up the path to leave them with some privacy. Moondancer touched her nose lightly to Wishawhirl's shoulder for a moment.   
  
"That's a pretty cool invention."   
  
Wishawhirl sighed. "At least it might turn out to be useful."   
  
"I don't think you should feel too bad. I think it works just fine." She paused, looking seriously at Wishawhirl's long face. "You only saw the bad things, Pinwheel. Your flaws. You saw your false pride and disappointment…"   
  
"And my huge rear end…"   
  
She grinned. "That, too. And it's good to face those things. But there are some things you blinded yourself to, also. Good things. In that moving light picture, I saw your thoroughness and intelligence. I saw your vision and inspiration and your sense of purpose. I saw all those things amplified and made great."   
  
He snorted, "Ridiculous, you mean."   
  
She smiled mischievously. "Maybe a little. Still a pony. But also great." She reached forward and rested her head on his shoulders, pony hug. He returned the gesture.   
  
"I better catch up, or Kimono will wonder." She winked. "Good night!" She threw him a last smile as she ran up the path.   
  
"Good night." He called after her, watching her disappear into the darkness. He stood outside for a few minutes, staring up at the round-bellied moon and the pinpoint lights in the sky. Moondancer was right about getting out to see the stars. He should look up more often. He lowered his gaze to earth, and turned to go back inside, to begin work on the Self-Amplifier. Sleep indeed.


	9. Chapter 9

The Alpha Sunny Daze stood staring out the tower window, pondering her dilemma. Outside the weather was perfect, as it had been for days: warm sunshine, harmless fluffy clouds, light breeze. Below her rested the quaint sloping roofs of Ponyville, in candy pinks and lemon yellows, robin's egg blues and minty greens, with narrow cobblestone streets wending throughout in a haphazard fashion. Beyond the city, where the streets petered out into rambling dirt trails, stretched the idyllic countryside of Ponyland, the thick forests and the hills of green and gold, whose gentle rises gave them their old name, Great Peachy's Back. The peaceful scene belied the frenzy of rumors stirring in her populace. Ponyville was abuzz with news of the Self-Amplifier, and Sunny, with no new information on the mysterious device, found herself confined to the castle simply to escape the small but fervent hordes of ponies demanding to know the full story of the light-picture machine. Over the last week while she hid in this claustrophobic study and other rooms of the castle, Sunny had been able to say only that she was looking into the matter and that more news would be forthcoming. She fervently hoped Wishawhirl would finish his modifications quickly, so she could make some decision concerning the machine. Nearly a week was an eternity to be cooped up. She wanted to go outside. Without being swarmed.

Not that the decision would be made without some gravity. She was concerned that Wishawhirl would be devastated were she forced to revoke his tinkering privileges permanently. However, it was increasingly difficult to manage his blind obsession, although Kimono had reported that he seemed genuinely contrite this time, and even cooperative. He had reported that it would take some time to grow new crystals for the machine, but who knew what he might be doing in his cottage these few days, his windows shuttered, his doors locked? Sunny grew more uneasy with each day that passed, anxious for word on this machine she had yet to see demonstrated. She had offered to simply visit the cottage to see the workings of the original, but Wishawhirl had been distressed by this idea, and Kimono, for unclear reasons, seemed to feel it would be better if she didn't go to his home or view the original recorded light picture.

The clacking of hooves on the stone floor behind her broke her reverie. Turning from the window, she was delighted to find her fast friend and trusted advisor standing respectfully behind her. Kimono inclined her head in greeting. Sunny Daze tackled her with a pony hug.

"Kimono! Are you here to rescue me from the tower?" she cried hopefully. "Can I go outside?"

Kimono grunted from the impact of her sporty friend's lunge and craned her head away, trying to breathe. "Afraid not, Sunny," she grunted

Sunny released her grip in disappointment. "Really? Still nothing? I'm going to be a pile of flab if I don't get out soon."

"I doubt that," Kimono replied dryly, her eyes flickering over the lean muscles of the Alpha. What Sunny lacked in size, she made up for in strength and energy. In fact, it was her physical stamina, along with her naturally effusive but also down-to earth and level-headed personality that had made her a shoo-in for Alpha when the succession had changed only a few years ago. Everyone loved and admired the natural leader, and Sunny genuinely loved and admired them right back. For the most part she had adapted well to her new role, although the young pony was often dismayed at how little time she was left for the sports and socializing she squeezed between official duties. She was a good decision-maker, a just moderator, and a pony of the people, a ray of light and warmth wherever she went, as her name suggested.

Nonetheless, Sunny knew she might be more Daze and less Sun without Kimono's keen perception, deliberate wisdom, and encyclopedic knowledge behind the Alpha's Seat. If Sunny was a shifting ray of light, her twilight advisor was an unfathomable pool of still water, a surface that allowed the light to sparkle.  However, even though they had been close friends since childhood, lately Sunny felt she couldn't penetrate that surface at all. She would never question Kimono's loyalty; indeed, even as Sunny sensed her becoming more distant and formal, the twilight advisor seemed to focus on her official work with increasing intensity. The harder Sunny tried to revive their former closeness, the less she saw of Kimono. Recently, she had only appeared to deliver news or advice as Primary Advisor or Record-Keeper. Sunny noticed with some dismay that her old friend had not even returned her hug.

"Actually, I do have news," continued Kimono. "I went to Wishawhirls' cottage this morning, but he was missing. So were key parts of the machine in question."

Sunny groaned, hiding her head down between her front legs. "Missing? Are you serious? Do you think he's dangerous?"

"I don't think so," Kimono replied levelly. "And nothing else in the house was missing, as far as I was able to tell, so I don't think he's fled. In fact, I suspect he's out testing the modified machine before he brings it here, and I wanted to give you prior warning."

Hope leapt in Sunny's breast. She might get outside after all. She lifted her head to reply, but the door burst open without warning, revealing an irate looking white pony with shocking pink hair and lively tinsel.

"Starswirl, what—" began Kimono angrily, but the intruder disregarded her entirely, speaking directly to the Alpha.

"I _tried_ to stop him, Sunny, but there's this _stallion_," she spit the word out with contempt, as if she wouldn't know the name of one of the handful of males in Ponyville, or exactly why he had come to see the Alpha, "this orange stallion downstairs, and he won't go away. He's got some crazy machine with him, and he's demanding to see you."

"We know—" Kimono began.

"I _tried_ to explain that the Alpha is very busy with important, official duties, and isn't seeing _anyone_, but _he_ seems to think his special machine can't wait another second."

"Actually—" Kimono tried.

"Stallions!" fumed Starswirl. "Think they can see the Alpha anytime they want just because they have a—"

"_Thank you_, Starswirl," interrupted Sunny Daze hastily. She could hear Kimono grinding her teeth beside her. "Please ask him to wait in the ballroom downstairs. We'll be down shortly."

"_Exactly_," affirmed Starswirl. "_He_ has to wait for _you_ to come down. I'll let him know."

Nose and tail held high, she strode from the room.

Sunny Daze giggled, but Kimono obviously didn't share her amusement.

"I still fail to see the reason you retain her as an assistant," she snipped.

"Oh, Kimono, she's just a little—overzealous. She's really fun, mostly."

Kimono snorted. "Exactly. I'm surprised she's awake."

This was a valid point. Starswirl was something of a night-mare, but even the Alpha occasionally needed a party to stay up for. She was also the only pony Sunny could convince to go rock-climbing in the dark with her. Adventuresome, Sunny thought. Reckless, Kimono had said. Those two had never gotten along well, with one or two exceptions facilitated by Sweetberry's somewhat illicit concoctions. Sunny grinned, remembering, and nudged Kimono playfully.

 "Besides," she continued. "She looks so much like me, she could be useful if we ever need to fool someone. From a distance, anyway. That could be useful, right?"

When Kimono met her eyes, her face was composed into the impassive mask she now wore so often. However, she seemed momentarily unable to speak as she studied the Alpha, whose build, if slightly more toned, was similar to Starswirls'; whose coat, if a little warmer in color, was white like Starswirl's; and whose hair, if streaked with bits of goldenrod and violet, was predominantly the same hot pink as Starswirl's. The loud, smiling sun on her rump was quite different from the intricate spiral of tiny silver stars on Starswirl's, but one could hardly call it a major difference. After just slightly too long a pause, she replied, "I'm surprised I haven't noticed it before. Yes, you two do resemble each other somewhat. That could be useful at some point."

It seemed impossible for Sunny to ask what had just happened in Kimono's mind. She didn't want to make Kimono uncomfortable, nor did she wish to apply pressure to the rift between her Advisor and Assistant. Anyway, Wishawhirl would be waiting, and the sooner she could make a decision about the machine, the sooner she could go outside again. She mustered up a smile.

"Let's go see what our kooky local inventor has dreamed up this time."


End file.
